Esme, 39
Interviewer: Tell me why you decided to come to the United States.
Esme: Well life back in Mexico is completely different.
I am from A very little village called San Lucas Atzala located inside of Puebla, Mexico, with a total population of 2,550 people.I was raised by my grandparents, in a small house made out of mud, together with my 4 siblings, our parents left us back, to go work in Mexico city.
Interviewer: Tell me why you decided to come to the United States.
Esme: Well life back in Mexico is completely different.
I am from A very little village called San Lucas Atzala located inside of Puebla, Mexico, with a total population of 2,550 people.I was raised by my grandparents, in a small house made out of mud, together with my 4 siblings, our parents left us back, to go work in Mexico city.
Still we grew up very poor, we survived off our farm animals and crops we grew. We barely had enough for even a pencil or notebook for school. The mexican government doesn’t pay for kids' education, they don’t care about the up and coming generations. On average about 300,000 children drop out of school each year after the sixth grade and average Mexican has dropped out after 14. That’s why I would barely try in school cause I knew my family could never financially support it.
I was tired of not being able to afford a simple soda or candy, I didn’t want to live day to day anymore and even if I wanted to get a job it was nearly impossible to, because there were just no jobs, everyone just raises their animals and grows crops.
Interviewer: So did you come by necessity or for pleasure?
Esme: For necessity, in Mexico, there is no prominent future. The same cycle repeats itself, you raise animals and grow crops to live of off and then you have kids and your kids go on to do the same thing.I just couldn’t stay back and let the cycle repeat itself.
Oftentimes people suggest well why don’t people come here the legal way, well for one they wait to get their visa approved in 11 years, and oftentimes people wanting to come to the United States are in desperate measures either they are fleeing from the dangers of their home countries or trying to provide for their families. Additionally, when applying for a visa you need to file paperwork and pay a fee and many don’t have enough to even cover the fee to apply. On average 43% of South America is in poverty.
As I got older I started hearing more and more about people from my village going to “el norte”, the united states at a chance for a better future. Recently my parents had moved back into my grandparent’s house, it was uncomfortable to be around them because they were always drunk, with even more reason I decided I would go to el norte.
Now I needed to find what’s called a “Coyote” . They are the ones who will guide you through your journey. At that time I paid only $500, which was a lot of money, money I didn’t have. I had to borrow money from my friends. Currently the price is at about $10,000, although the hefty price tag, it is not guaranteed that you make it across the border.
Things were a lot simpler back then, the big drug lords weren’t controlling the border, like they are now.
So at just 14 years old, I embarked on my journey. I still remember the day so clearly, the sun was just rising, heating up the coldness from the early morning winds. Then as I was leaving, surprisingly my dad insisted on coming with me, since he had known the journey is very dangerous for young women. I was frustrated but I had no other choice left. We met up with our group, 60 of us at the village church.
I was tired of not being able to afford a simple soda or candy, I didn’t want to live day to day anymore and even if I wanted to get a job it was nearly impossible to, because there were just no jobs, everyone just raises their animals and grows crops.
Interviewer: So did you come by necessity or for pleasure?
Esme: For necessity, in Mexico, there is no prominent future. The same cycle repeats itself, you raise animals and grow crops to live of off and then you have kids and your kids go on to do the same thing.I just couldn’t stay back and let the cycle repeat itself.
Oftentimes people suggest well why don’t people come here the legal way, well for one they wait to get their visa approved in 11 years, and oftentimes people wanting to come to the United States are in desperate measures either they are fleeing from the dangers of their home countries or trying to provide for their families. Additionally, when applying for a visa you need to file paperwork and pay a fee and many don’t have enough to even cover the fee to apply. On average 43% of South America is in poverty.
As I got older I started hearing more and more about people from my village going to “el norte”, the united states at a chance for a better future. Recently my parents had moved back into my grandparent’s house, it was uncomfortable to be around them because they were always drunk, with even more reason I decided I would go to el norte.
Now I needed to find what’s called a “Coyote” . They are the ones who will guide you through your journey. At that time I paid only $500, which was a lot of money, money I didn’t have. I had to borrow money from my friends. Currently the price is at about $10,000, although the hefty price tag, it is not guaranteed that you make it across the border.
Things were a lot simpler back then, the big drug lords weren’t controlling the border, like they are now.
So at just 14 years old, I embarked on my journey. I still remember the day so clearly, the sun was just rising, heating up the coldness from the early morning winds. Then as I was leaving, surprisingly my dad insisted on coming with me, since he had known the journey is very dangerous for young women. I was frustrated but I had no other choice left. We met up with our group, 60 of us at the village church.
Esme: There would be a long journey ahead before we even reached the border. We would transfer on and off busses until we would eventually make it to Tijuana, the border. The hardest part was about to just begin, the border in between two Mountains, instead of just walking through both the mountains, we would have to go up and around the mountains because those were the areas the immigration patrol didn't surface as much. We would travel at night mostly to not be seen by patrol cars and the “Mosca'' the helicopter patrol. We walked for days and days, through the desert, with barely any water or food. It was every man for themselves, the Coyote’s didn’t care if you didn’t have any water or food or even fell behind, he would keep going. I started to get holes in my sneakers, rocks and thorns would kreep inside my shoe.I wanted to give up so many times and let myself get caught, but I pushed through because I refused to go back to the village. We walked and walked for about 14 days throughout the desert, through the rain, through cactus plants, up and down hills . It was brutal, we would barely sleep. Then we finally reached the border into the US, A pavement road in the middle, constantly patrolled. It seemed so close but still was so far. The coyote had arranged for us to pass running 2 by 2 so we wouldn’t be seen and at the other side would be a van waiting to take us to a safe house.Everyone had crossed and it was finally our turn, we looked out on either side to make clear of any patrols cars, we ran as fast as we could across the road. A huge sense of relief as we made it across when suddenly the coyote shouted “La miga, la miga!” everyone dispersed, running as fast as they could in any direction to not be caught. I ran and ran but my dad couldn’t anymore. He had been dehydrated and tired from the endless walking. I even remember him saying to me, “Go ahead daughter, leave me back.I’ll be fine, you go ahead without me.” I couldn’t leave my dad back, I responded back, “If you and I came here together, we are making it across together.” I grabbed his hand and pulled him closer and we ran faster then I had ever before, until we found a big enough rock to hide behind. We waited, until the coast was clear, but we couldn’t wait much longer because they, would be back with more officers.
We regrouped and quickly moved along to the other jam-packed van. About 40 people in an 8 seater. At that point it didn’t even matter how squished you were, but that you were in. The van went at about what felt 100 miles per hour and didn’t stop for anything until it made it to its destination. Oftentimes these vans get into horrific car accidents, because they would go at these racing speeds jam-packed with people, but thank god we made it safe. As I step foot out the van a big weight is lifted off my shoulders, thankful to have made it past the worst safely and thankful to have made it across with my father too. Our group was split up into different safe houses. Here we would wait to get released, you would have to pay your due and then they would send you off to different parts of the country wherever your final destination was.
Subsequently, another problem arose, the person who had agreed to lend me money had disappeared, no sign of them when I tried to call them. Who would I call to get that money from now , no one around me had that type of money. Until I had remembered that my cousin had recently come to New York and perhaps was willing to lend me the money. So I took the chance and get a hold of her. She says it would be a couple days but she would lend me the money. A relief.
Days pass and we aren’t allowed out at all, we ate and slept, and did chores. No entertainment, I passed time by cleaning. Finally, after about a week the money had been transferred over to the Coyote. My dad had been given the money by another close relative as well
We were put into a van and driven to the airport until then it hadn’t settled that I had made it to America. I looked out the window in disbelief it didn’t seem real, I’d stared at the tall skyscrapers with the glossy window glistening, and the short bright buildings. I stare hard at the tall fair complexion people with yellow hair, we don’t see them back in the village and then these dark-skinned people with big puffy hair, we don’t see them either. My eyes glued to the window, in disbelief trying to take it all in. We were taken to the airport where we would fly to New York, at the time airport rules were very different. You wouldn’t get checked as thoroughly, and you weren’t required a proper identification to board. I anxiously awaited to take my seat, sweating frantically that the migra would come looking for me. I’d never been on a plane before, I held on tight to my seat, looking out the window as we took off. My stomach trembles, the whole flight I look out the window into the fluffy clouds. Imagining my new life I’m about to begin.
Interviewer: Now tell me about your life once in America
Esme:We arrived in New York with my cousins, all crammed into a tiny New York apartment. I remember working as a busboy making $300 dollars every 15 days. Looking back I was getting exploited, but at the time it was a lot of money. Living in the village you couldn’t even make that in a year.
Life happened and then eventually I moved to Philadelphia with my sister. I moved in with her and in that house lived a guy named Jason, my brother in laws best friend. Both being teenagers without our parents in another country, things happen. Back in the village, you weren’t taught sex-ed. It was forbidden to talk about it for some odd reason, they would just tell us girls that when we meet a guy we will end up pregnant, but they never told us why. So being young and curious I ended up pregnant at only 15.
I was frustrated, I had come to another country to just fuck it all up. I was ashamed to tell my family. I didn’t want to have the kid. I was in denial, but after some time contemplating I knew I didn’t want to give up my kid but instead I would prosper with my kid. My baby father and I became enamored. Coincidentally he was from the same village I was from even though I had never seen him before. Life was good, I worked past the hard shipped, determined to give my kid a bright future.
years passed.
Then around when my baby was 3, I started getting very sharp pains in my stomach, they increasingly got worse and worse. Soon they became unbearable, I could barely even lift up my kid. So I went to the hospital, and they refused to treat me because I was an immigrant and thus I didn’t have insurance, even though I was in severe pain they refused to treat me. Well, I had no choice but to deal with it but came to a point when I really couldn’t take it anymore, then my baby father suggested that I go back to Mexico and get treated there. I didn’t want to, after all the suffering to come here I just didn’t want to go back, but if I stayed here I felt I was going to die. So I did I packed my stuff along with my baby’s and went back to Mexico. My baby father stayed back to take care of the expenses. I was saddened to be apart but was hopeful we would be back together.
I got treated back in Mexico, had to get surgery, I had had kidney stones. Although I had enough money to live a comfortable life now in Mexico from my baby fathers earnings back in the US I did not want to stay in Mexico. That is not the future I wanted for my son, there is no future here, hundreds of miles away from his dad, from his true home, but there was a problem, getting back once recovered. I couldn’t travel back with my son on a plane, at that time I didn’t know anything about visas, looking back I could’ve gotten one, but moving on . I also didn’t want to put in danger my son, crossing the border with him
Days passed and we thought about all the different ways to go back. Until we came up with a plan, I would go back as “mojada”, through the desert, and my son would stay back with my in-laws. It was one of the most painful things I’ve had to do, leaving my 3-year-old son in Mexico, while I went back to the US, but it was the only way. The day slowly crept up, I debated on just staying back but I knew it was the best thing to do and so I left my son. I cried endlessly for days, my whole journey, every day in the US. It didn’t seem right.I at least had peace of mind, he was well taken care of. Him being so young he was unaware.
We had planned for a friend, an American citizen who would go pick up our son and bring him back. Then when he was set for departure, he all of the sudden said he can’t anymore. We were frustrated because now what were we going to do, our son was in Mexico and we were in a different country. It took us about a year to find someone to bring our son over. It was one of the hardest things to do being away from my son, I contemplated going back every day.
Interviewer: Tell me about your life now.
Even now after being in this country 20 years, and having children who have all been born here, I still can be stripped away from my family at any given moment. I have no legal status here. All I want is the safety and peace of mind to know I can’t get stripped away from my family, many people don’t want immigrants to become citizens because they believe we just want the benefits but all we really want is the security to know we won’t be stripped from our family.
Days pass and we aren’t allowed out at all, we ate and slept, and did chores. No entertainment, I passed time by cleaning. Finally, after about a week the money had been transferred over to the Coyote. My dad had been given the money by another close relative as well
We were put into a van and driven to the airport until then it hadn’t settled that I had made it to America. I looked out the window in disbelief it didn’t seem real, I’d stared at the tall skyscrapers with the glossy window glistening, and the short bright buildings. I stare hard at the tall fair complexion people with yellow hair, we don’t see them back in the village and then these dark-skinned people with big puffy hair, we don’t see them either. My eyes glued to the window, in disbelief trying to take it all in. We were taken to the airport where we would fly to New York, at the time airport rules were very different. You wouldn’t get checked as thoroughly, and you weren’t required a proper identification to board. I anxiously awaited to take my seat, sweating frantically that the migra would come looking for me. I’d never been on a plane before, I held on tight to my seat, looking out the window as we took off. My stomach trembles, the whole flight I look out the window into the fluffy clouds. Imagining my new life I’m about to begin.
Interviewer: Now tell me about your life once in America
Esme:We arrived in New York with my cousins, all crammed into a tiny New York apartment. I remember working as a busboy making $300 dollars every 15 days. Looking back I was getting exploited, but at the time it was a lot of money. Living in the village you couldn’t even make that in a year.
Life happened and then eventually I moved to Philadelphia with my sister. I moved in with her and in that house lived a guy named Jason, my brother in laws best friend. Both being teenagers without our parents in another country, things happen. Back in the village, you weren’t taught sex-ed. It was forbidden to talk about it for some odd reason, they would just tell us girls that when we meet a guy we will end up pregnant, but they never told us why. So being young and curious I ended up pregnant at only 15.
I was frustrated, I had come to another country to just fuck it all up. I was ashamed to tell my family. I didn’t want to have the kid. I was in denial, but after some time contemplating I knew I didn’t want to give up my kid but instead I would prosper with my kid. My baby father and I became enamored. Coincidentally he was from the same village I was from even though I had never seen him before. Life was good, I worked past the hard shipped, determined to give my kid a bright future.
years passed.
Then around when my baby was 3, I started getting very sharp pains in my stomach, they increasingly got worse and worse. Soon they became unbearable, I could barely even lift up my kid. So I went to the hospital, and they refused to treat me because I was an immigrant and thus I didn’t have insurance, even though I was in severe pain they refused to treat me. Well, I had no choice but to deal with it but came to a point when I really couldn’t take it anymore, then my baby father suggested that I go back to Mexico and get treated there. I didn’t want to, after all the suffering to come here I just didn’t want to go back, but if I stayed here I felt I was going to die. So I did I packed my stuff along with my baby’s and went back to Mexico. My baby father stayed back to take care of the expenses. I was saddened to be apart but was hopeful we would be back together.
I got treated back in Mexico, had to get surgery, I had had kidney stones. Although I had enough money to live a comfortable life now in Mexico from my baby fathers earnings back in the US I did not want to stay in Mexico. That is not the future I wanted for my son, there is no future here, hundreds of miles away from his dad, from his true home, but there was a problem, getting back once recovered. I couldn’t travel back with my son on a plane, at that time I didn’t know anything about visas, looking back I could’ve gotten one, but moving on . I also didn’t want to put in danger my son, crossing the border with him
Days passed and we thought about all the different ways to go back. Until we came up with a plan, I would go back as “mojada”, through the desert, and my son would stay back with my in-laws. It was one of the most painful things I’ve had to do, leaving my 3-year-old son in Mexico, while I went back to the US, but it was the only way. The day slowly crept up, I debated on just staying back but I knew it was the best thing to do and so I left my son. I cried endlessly for days, my whole journey, every day in the US. It didn’t seem right.I at least had peace of mind, he was well taken care of. Him being so young he was unaware.
We had planned for a friend, an American citizen who would go pick up our son and bring him back. Then when he was set for departure, he all of the sudden said he can’t anymore. We were frustrated because now what were we going to do, our son was in Mexico and we were in a different country. It took us about a year to find someone to bring our son over. It was one of the hardest things to do being away from my son, I contemplated going back every day.
Interviewer: Tell me about your life now.
Even now after being in this country 20 years, and having children who have all been born here, I still can be stripped away from my family at any given moment. I have no legal status here. All I want is the safety and peace of mind to know I can’t get stripped away from my family, many people don’t want immigrants to become citizens because they believe we just want the benefits but all we really want is the security to know we won’t be stripped from our family.